The Hollow Winchester
by Shuddereye
Summary: (Season 10, shortly after Dean becomes human again) When the brothers decide to get back in action by working on a disturbing case taking place in a high shool in California, they are met with mind boggling questions, and a strange girl whose identity raises as much confusion as the case itself.
1. Chapter 1: Back to School

_**(Beginning in Season 10, shortly after Dean becomes human again.)**_

Dean and Sam Winchester were about twelve hours into their long drive toward a potential case in Sacramento, California, when Dean finally made it to the motel nearest to the first place they'd investigate tomorrow.

The incident they were going to investigate involved the murder of a 12th grade quarterback, Richard Hughes, in the bathroom of the high school he attended. The alleged killer was a 9th grade girl, Katherine Baker, who, according to the papers, was paralyzed from the waist down while she beat the football player until he succumbed to blood loss on the bathroom floor.

Dean theorized that the case likely had something to do with witchcraft, or a curse of some sort. And though Sam did not entirely rule out his brother's ideas, he believed that this case involved a demon or a vengeful spirit of sorts.

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the motel while Sam studied the case, reading over every article, observing every picture, and watching every video he could find from newspapers and the Internet. Sam closed his laptop just long enough for them to check in and get settled into their room before he sat onto his bed and opened the screen back up. He looked at the poorly shot pictures taken of the crime scene, the alleged murderer, and the victim, by those, Sam guessed, who were also students of the High school.

The pictures taken of the crime scene were just bloody: gore and torn tissue was spattered about the room, and what looked to be brain matter was left in chunks on the corner of the counter top of the sinks. However, other than the grotesqueness of it all, there was nothing that would be of note to a hunter that was revealed in the images.

The pictures of the victim were equally as useless, but twice as grotesque: his jaw was twisted out of place, and the right side of his face was swollen and discolored, his eye ruptured and oozing out pints of thick, darkened blood onto the floor beneath his head. His clothes were torn, and what skin was revealed under the shreds of cloth was black, blue, or purple. His right femur poked about three inches out of the surface of his thigh, where an extremely sever open fracture had likely caused unbearable amounts of agony prior to death. His arms were gnarled and twisted, the bones in his hands were clearly shattered beneath his blood soaked skin. Though Sam had seen his fair share of mutilated bodies, something about this particular case made him feel sick.

The images of the murderer, unlike those of the crime scene and victim, did spark some interest as far as hunters go. She was scrawny, and pale with red hair shaved down to a centimeter in length. She was covered in blood, though it was not her own, and there was not a scratch on her (which lead Sam to cross out the idea of her being under a witch's curse or spell, seeing as she's likely be dead or horribly disfigured). She sat in her wheelchair, hunched over, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were as wide as golfballs, and she stared into the crowd of people who looked equally as horrified as she did. The shock on the girl's face hinted to Sam that she was likely under some kind of possession during the murder. Though, there was clearly no ectoplasm on her, for her nearly white skin would have revealed the black liquid pouring from her eyes, mouth, nose, or ears with ease. Sam ruled out the likelihood of a vengeful spirit. Instead he lingered on the idea of demonic possession: though her eyes were not black in the pictures, she appeared to be unscathed therefore he figured she had been freed after the victim was dead. She was clearly weak, and there was no doubt in his mind that she wasn't truly paralyzed, (for her legs looked almost paper thin, and both knees leaned limply together onto the metal frame of her wheelchair) and there was no way that a girl of her ability could have slaughtered a 200 pound quarterback without so much as a single scratch without supernatural help. His best guess was a demon, though why a demon would possess a crippled girl to slaughter a high schooler was beyond him.

He went over the entire scenario with his brother, and showed him the images, which probably wasn't the best idea, seeing as Dean was halfway into a bacon cheeseburger that he had saved for when they'd had time to rest.

Dean could easily handle the images of the gore covered bathroom, as well as the terrified looking culprit, though the first image of the victim's body almost made him spit out his burger. "Jesus. That little thing did THAT?!" He set his burger down on a napkin on the table. He leaned over his brother's chair, and pointed toward the boy's exposed femur, and said with a mouth half full, "Do you know how much force it would take to break his leg like that?!" He then swallowed, "That bone's like five times stronger than steel...!"

"I'm aware. That's why I'm leaning toward a demon. For some reason I doubt it's a vengeful spirit. We'd have to check the place out to be sure, though..." Sam leaned back in his chair, his hand over his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed as he thought this one over.

"Alright. We'll worry about that tomorrow, till then, let's get some shut eye." Dean once again slapped his brother's shoulder, before wrapping his burger up in foil and putting it in the mini fridge that was under the counter.

"...Yeah." Sam said with a nod before he reluctantly closed his laptop. "I've got a weird feeling about this case for some reason. Something feels... Off." He climbed into his bed after taking off his shoes and over shirt.

Dean was already half naked and curled up under the covers of his own bed when he replied, muffled though his pillow, "I think that we should worry about this tomorrow, Sammy. It's been a long day..."

Sam grunted in response, nodding his head briefly as he did so. He sighed, trying to shake the strange feeling that the case was giving him off. He then reached over the nightstand and clicked off the lamp, then sunk down under the covers and shut his eyes in attempt to get a decent sleep.

The next day, after they had both geared up in their FBI disguises, and armed themselves with fake IDs, angel blades, and EMF scanners, they checked out of their motel, careful not to leave anything behind. They then headed to the high school, which was only a half hour drive from their motel. After parking the Impala, Dean exited and stepped out into the parking lot, his brother doing the same. They both walked to the front door, passing by clustered of teenagers, hugging their textbooks and gossiping. Sam and Dean couldn't make out what is was they were talking about, but the anxious glances they cast their way told them it might have something to do with their future investigation.

The duo made their way into the office, Dean getting a sick feeling after stepping back into the barren and echoing school hallways, in which he had never a fond memory of. As they approached the front desk, they pulled out their badges, and greeted the secretary, a stout woman who appeared to be in her late forties.

"I'm Agent Smith, this is my partner, Agent Smith, no relation." Dean introduced himself and his brother, then said, "We're here about the murder that took place six days ago."

The secretary lowered her head and looked over the rim of her glasses at them with narrowed eyes, "The police have already been through here, and Katherine is already in custody. What does the FBI want with a solved case?" she said suspiciously.

"We're just here to gather some information and make sure there was nothing missed in the police report." Dean explained in reply, his eyebrows raised and his hands up in mock surrender.

The woman stared at him intensely for a solid ten seconds, then snorted and picked up the telephone that was on the far side of her desk. She held it to the side of her face with her shoulder as she pressed a button on the dial pad harder than she should have. "Tammy? A couple of FEDs are here to 'gather information' about the incident last Friday." She said, then paused, then nodded and spoke again in reply to whomever was on the phone, "Okay. I'll have em wait." She then slammed the phone back onto its base, and pointed at them. "You two." She moved her pointed finger to the small, wooden bench that was pressed up against a wall. "Have a seat."

Sam raised his eyebrows and blinked a couple of times, then mouthed the word, "Oooookayyy..." And slowly turned and sat down on the side farthest away from her.

Dean forced a grin, and briefly dipped his head, "Thanks." He said, then sat down beside his brother.

It took about fifteen minutes before a woman in a suit stepped into the office, and turned to them. "Agents." She said in greeting as the brothers stood, "My name is Tammy Price. I'm the head principle of this school."

"I'm agent Smith, this is my partner, agent Smith." Dean said, and shook her hand.

"No relation." Chimed in the secretary, whose voice told the room that she was internally rolling her eyes.

"...Right." Tammy responded, raising an eyebrow and slightly dipping her head as she then shook Sam's hand.

"Would you mind taking us to the scene of the crime ma'am?" Sam asked politely, giving Tammy his puppy eyes, but not putting too much effort into it.

"Yes, of course." She said, dipping her head, then turned and opened the door to exit, motioning for them to follow.

As they walked through the hallways (which were now completely empty, as now most of the students were in their classrooms), Sam asked, "Did you know the victim or the culprit at all ma'am. Would Katherine have any reason to kill Richard?"

Tammy paused for a few moments, then replied, "Not many of the students here are particularly...fond of Richard." She said hesitantly, "He was a bad apple. Always in the office for one form of bullying or another. I do not know if Richard had bullied Katherine prior to the attack, though it wouldn't surprise me... What REALLY surprised me is how Katherine did what she did... Seeing as how feeble she was."

"Yes, that's why we're here. The FBI isn't entirely convinced that a girl like Katherine could do something like this... Alone, that is." Sam said cautiously.

"You're suggesting that Katherine had help?" The principal asked, glancing over her shoulder with her eyebrow raised curiously.

"We're, of course, not entirely sure about the theory but we're keeping an open mind to it. The case isn't entirely closed yet." Sam replied.

"Hmm..." Was the only reply Tammy gave, as she was not entirely sure what to think of it yet. Though their theory did make sense to her.

There was little more conversation following the thirty seconds left of their walk to the crime scene. Tammy moved a cone that was linked to a few others by bright yellow tape out of the way so that she could unlock and open the door to the boys' bathroom for them. Sam and Dean walked into the bathroom. There was little left of the crime scene that Sam had studied in the pictures beforehand. Aside from the chipped corners of the counter, and bloodstains that couldn't be washed away from the plaster in between the tiles, no evidence that one of the most brutal murders in history had taken place there could be seen. The air in the bathroom was thick: and smelled strongly of bleach and Lysol. Though it was clear that every inch of the bathroom had been scrubbed with the harshest of cleaning chemicals, the graffiti drawn on the stalls by teenagers armed with sharpie markers was still as clear as day, and some of the thinks written on them make Dean want to laugh. He turned toward the principal, "Thank you, Tammy. We can take it from here."

Tammy nodded and exited the bathroom, and the sound of high heels clacking down the hall told the brothers that she had left.

Dean pulled out his EMF scanner while Sam immediately went to work searching for traces of sulfur, ectoplasm or hex bags. After about five minutes of Dean waving the antenna around, and Sam frantically looking about, crouching and bending in odd ways, looking under sinks, counters, toilets, and urinals, both of them turned up empty.

"Nothin'" Sam said as he dusted off his hands, then slapped them down at his sides in frustration.

"Yeah I'm not getting anything either." Dean said, taking a last look at the ceiling as he pushed the antenna into his scanner, before tucking it into his coat pocket. "I guess we're going to have to question the students when the bell rings. And if that doesn't spark any suggestions then we'll question Katherine at lock up."

They waited outside of the crime scene for about five minutes before they heard the bell ring. Soon highschool students began pouring out of their classrooms and clustering together, all moving in one direction down the hallway like a river. They both scanned the crowd for anyone looking suspicious, any one who looked like a football player (a friend of Richard's) or anyone who looked like they gave a damn about two FBI agents standing awkwardly together in front of a bathroom crime scene. Dean gave a sideways grin when he saw a group of about four senior-looking girls talking to one another in whispers, casting suspicious glances at the Winchesters. Three of them seemed to single out on of the group, a slender blonde in an open flannel shirt, skinny jeans, boots and a scarf, who they obviously elected at the person who would speak to Dean and Sam. After getting a light shove from her clique, the girl nervously walked up to Dean, glancing shyly down at the floor while chewing bubblegum. "Hey uhm... Are you guys agents?" She asked in a slow tone.

Sam kept his mouth shut; he knew it was his brother who was going to get answers from a girl like this, and in no way would he let him miss out on a chance to flirt with a girl who looks as though she might be legal.

"Why, yes we are, miss." Dean said, smiling and dipping his head at her, his eyes wide as he observed her.

"Are you here for the Katherine thing..?" She asked, as slowly as she did before.

"Yes. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it would you?" Dean asked, trying to keep his eyes from falling to her cleavage, as the white tank top under her flannel was rather low cut.

"Uhm yeah. Katherine was a bitch and it doesn't surprise me what she did." She answered, her tone quickly changing from slow to sassy as she expressed her anger toward an apparent old enemy.

"What do you mean?" Sam finally spoke up, narrowing his eyes at his brother for a moment, hoping that his brother wouldn't keep the conversation going as long as possible.

"I mean she couldn't take a joke. She always bitched at Richard when he played around with her and her freaky ass devil worshipping best friend."

'Devil worshipping' caught both of their attentions. Even Dean snapped his eyes up and lost his sly grin once they got their first hint toward something supernatural. "Excuse me, 'Devil worshipping'?" Sam said, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head.

"Yeah Katherine has a friend... Adalyn Jacobs?" The girl looked up with her eyes narrowed as she tried to recall a few things, "The freak is totally a demon worshipper. And she wears too much perfume because she smells like spoiled eggs. She's such a skank. And they both bitched at Richard a lot when his tried joking with them."

The brothers looked at each other and nodded. They knew exactly what their next step was. "Thank you miss. We appreciate the help." They said and dipped their head to her. "Do you know where we could find Adalyn?"

She shrugged and nodded,"Yeah, I have history with her next period."

"Lead us to your class please."


	2. Chapter 2: The Name Game

The teenager grinned at her group of friends as she passed by with the two agents following behind her, and they all giggled before dispersing to their next classes. She lead them to her next class, which was on the next floor up and all the way in the back of the school, so she only managed to make it to her class about thirty seconds after the bell rang. As the girl walked in, her teacher looked at her for an explanation, and Dean stepped in behind her and said, "This was our fault; we held her up in the hallway to ask a couple of questions." He grinned and put a hand up in dismissal of the situation.

The teacher nodded, "That's perfectly fine then, Patricia, please take a seat."

After the girl named Patricia found a seat toward the front of the room, Sam stepped in and whispered to the teacher, "If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to talk to one of your students... Uh. Adalyn Jacobs?" The teacher didn't even look for an explanation, it was as if he was used to having the child called out of the classroom by authority figures. "Adalyn!" He demanded, "These gentlemen would like to talk to you."

A short girl with brown hair poked her head up from the very back of the class, her hazel eyes moved from her teacher to Sam and Dean, whom she gave a very suspicious stare. She furrowed her brows before huffing and packing up her things, then standing and throwing her bulky book bag over her shoulder. She walked toward them, maneuvering through the desks with her head down. As she approached, Sam got a better look at her. She was wearing a black leather jacket zipped up to the throat, black worn combat boots, stretchy, worn jeans, and a small silver cog wheel tied around her neck by a thick chain. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her bangs hung just below her brow. Her lips were a bright red, her eyes lined with black, and her skin was relatively pale; she would look like a corpse if it weren't for the redness of her cheeks, and the white eyeshadow on her lids that seemed to bring her hollow looking eyes to life.

She walked past them out of the class room, and as they shut the door behind her, she waited for them to say or do something, "Let's head to the office." Dean said, standing closely to the girl on one side with Sam on the other. The girl shrugged in reply as they walked her into the office. Dean nodded to Tammy, who was talking to the ever so grumpy secretary, then asked, "Do you perhaps have a private room where we can talk to Miss Jacobs here?" He asked her.

Tammy took a single glance at Adalyn, before looking back up at Dean and grinning, "Why yes we do." She said matter-of-factly, and lead them to a room on the off side of the main office, which had no windows, not even on the door, and a desk with three office chairs. The floor was white tiled, and the walls were white and as undecorated as the rest of the room. The only light was a bright white one built into the ceiling, which shined down on the desk in the center. As the three of them stepped in, Tammy handed Dean a key to the room, "It can't be opened from the inside without a key," she explained.

Dean nodded and closed the door behind him, tucking the key into his pocket. "Have a seat, Miss." He said, motioning to the single chair on the side of the desk farthest away from the door. Adalyn nodded and took her book bag off. She laid it beside her as she sat down in the chair silently. "I'm going to move this toward our side, if that's okay." Dean said with a grin as he slid the girl's bag away from her, resting it in between his and Sam's chairs. Sam looked Adalyn in the eye before casting a glance at Dean, who had his left hand rested on the handle of his angel blade. Sam opened his mouth slowly, readying himself as he watched the girl for her reaction,"Christo."

"Gesundheit." The girl replied dryly, and quickly, as if she expected it. Her eyes were closed halfway with boredom. She sighed and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

The brothers looked at each other for a moment. They cleared their throats and sat down, more relaxed. "Uh thank you." Sam said, clearing his throat nervously. "Been running a cold lately."

The girl stared at him blankly.

"We have some questions about your friend, Katherine." Dean said, leaning toward her. "How... Active was Katherine?"

"When she was six, she was in a car accident. She was paralyzed from the waist down. She clearly can't walk. And she doesn't eat anything but rabbit food, so she can hardly lift up a text book. Let alone open fracture a femur." Everything she said was in a flat, bored tone, like she expected everything he asked and was prepared to answer every question.

"So, you don't think Katherine could've killed Richard on her own." Dean asked.

"I know she couldn't kill him on her own. Richard was an ass, and a coward and a bully. He deserved everything he got. But Katherine clearly couldn't have done that."

"Who do you believe might have killed Richard instead?" Sam asked.

For a minute, there was silence as Adalyn and the brothers studied one another, giving equally suspicious stares. Sam's eyes wandered up the girl's arms, and something caught his eyes. Two rings were on each of her hands, one a bright silver, and the other a dark and rough black, with slight red stains painting the surface of the skin around the fingers that wore the rings. He breathed in the air through his nose, smelling for the spoiled eggs that the girl from earlier had reported. He thought he caught a distant whiff, though it was hard to tell, for the smell of lemon and lavender that seemed to radiate off of her masked it. The girl stared at them for a moment more before instantaneously seeming to lose her untrusting demeanor. "Agents, my name is Adalyn Jacobs." She said, giving them a smile as she uncrossed her arms, "I'm sorry for being so grumpy earlier. I don't trust the FBI, you see. But I now notice that you're pretty nice guys." She helped out her hand for Sam to shake as she stood from her chair. Sam took yet another glance at her ring before shaking her hand. "I'm Sam Smith."

"Dean Smith." Dean said as he also shook her hand.

While she greeted them, she first stared into their eyes, then glanced down at their hands only briefly. Sam looked closer at her rings. Clearly, they were iron and silver, and on the top of each of them there was a small, dull spike that was a milky white. When they all sat back down in their seats, Sam gave Dean yet another glance, as the brothers reassured each other they were thinking the same thing. They still didn't want to be outright, as the smell of sulfur in the air began to become almost noticeable as the smell of lemon and lavender faded away, and they 'devil worshipping' thing reported earlier didn't settle their suspicions. Was this girl a demon? Or a hunter? Either way they didn't want to entirely reveal that they were hunters themselves.

Dean realized once the girl began acting friendly, she wasn't going to stop. As he knew that she knew that if she went back on her sudden personality change, it would raise their suspicions even higher. So he decided that he'd be friendly as well, and get answered from her in a much more indirect way. "How long have you been going to this school, Adalyn?"

"Four months, since school started." She answered with a casual shrug of the shoulders and an unbroken smirk.

"Aren't you a junior? Did you move schools or something?" Dean asked.

"I'm in foster care; I was moved here to another family during the summer." Adalyn once again sounded cool as a cucumber.

"So, how long have you been in foster care?" Dean prodded, "If you don't mind me asking."

"Six years, since my mother died."

"Shouldn't your father be taking care of you?"

"I haven't even met the man. He ran out on my mother before I was born. So, tracking him down isn't an option."

The brothers exchanged glances for a split second before Dean allowed Sam to take over. "Adalyn, if it's alright if I ask, how did your mother die?"

"She had her throat ripped out." Adalyn answered simply, then paused and glanced to her left, "By a wolf."

Red flag. Red flag. Red flag. Dean and Sam both tensed. She sounded more and more like a hunter with every word she spoke. A missing dad, a mother killed by what clearly was a supernatural being (vampire, in this case), and a cool and calm demeanor with eyes that told the world she'd seen some shit. Still. If she wasn't a hunter, they didn't want to risk exposure or alarm. So they continued to ask questions, but from a different angle, "Are you aware that some of your peers call you a 'devil worshipper'?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Now, Adalyn answered like a typical teenager. She rolled her eyes and said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and like they were idiots for even asking such a thing.

"Why would they call you that?"

"Because I'm Wiccan, and they're all idiots." She said, now sounding just annoyed with recalling them. She sighed, and apparently felt hot, as she felt the need to remove her jacket and place it on the table. Her black shirt was rather low cut, and had deliberate horizontal tears that went from wide to narrow, the top tear at the base of her chest, and the bottom just above her belly button. It would leave nothing to the imagination, hadn't she worn a red tank top under it. Dean noticed, that just peeking above the top of her undershirt, was what appeared to be the top of a devil's trap, tattooed in just above her sternum. When Dean nudged his brother with his elbow, Sam felt like slapping him for looking down her cleavage, but then he, too, noticed the familiar mark. Dean cleared his throat, "That- Uhh. That tattoo. Is that your Wiccan symbol?"

She looked down her shirt for a moment, "Oh yeah." She said, grinning proudly and pulling her shirt down, revealing even more of her chest as well as the rest of the tattoo. It was a decorative devil's trap, clear as day, with vines that sprung out of the corners of the pentagram inside and winded around and grew out onto the unseen parts of her breasts, and up to her collar bone and around the base of her throat. "It's a pentacle. Nature and all that shit." She grinned down at her tattoo, and looked up at the brothers for a reaction. Dean wouldn't have hidden his amusement toward seeing a breast tattoo, hadn't he been on a case, and working with someone who was clearly still a child. The devil's trap tipped the meter toward hunter, but there were still many unanswered questions. Sam scanned the tattoo he wondered perhaps if it weren't a hunter, maybe a demon that had been sealed inside of a teenager, and for some reason could not gain control.

Suddenly Adalyn coughed, and covered her mouth with her hand. "Excuse me." She said as she cleared her throat. She then sniffed her hand and scrunched up her nose. "Good lord, I'm sorry. I must smell awful." She reached over the table to dig into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a spray bottle. She tried to spritz herself, but the nozzle was twisted and sprayed in the other direction. Little droplets of a light lemon and lavender scented perfume fell on the bare hands of the brothers and they leaned back a bit. "Oh geez I'm sorry!" She said, shortly after pausing and looking them over. "I'm such an idiot." She then turned the nozzle to face her and spritzed her neck and the inside of her mouth.

The brothers looked at one another, both irritated with the incident, and then dusted their hands off. "No problem." Dean said dryly with his brows furrowed in annoyance. "So- let's get down to business." He said, deciding to once again interrogate her like he would a human of whom he wasn't suspicious of. "Adalyn, why would Katherine want to kill Richard?"

Adalyn screwed the cap back on her bottle of perfume. When she put the bottle back into her jacket pocket "Like I said, he was a bully and a coward. He particularly liked to pick on Kathy and I. He'd poke at her legs and ask her if she felt anything. He'd unscrew the wheels of her wheelchair in class." After she spoke, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Sam's eyes narrowed as he noticed a sort of whitish yellow powder, barely visible on her jacket where her hand just was. The hand that had stuffed the perfume back in her pocket was the hand that she had just covered her mouth up with when she coughed. Something was wrong. Did she just cough up sulfur? He blinked a few times to make sure what he was looking at was real.

Dean, who had yet to notice the residue, continued his questioning. "So Richard picked on you to? And it made you happy when she killed him?"

"Hell no!" Adalyn snarled, standing up from her chair, "I don't care that that bastard's dead but now; I'm never going to see my best friend again, either! She's been locked up and there's no way that they're going to let her g-"she stopped dead in her quick rant when her stomach interrupted her by making the sound of a dying whale. "May I please go to the restroom?" She asked, one hand covering her mouth, her other arm curled around her gut.

Dean stood up, backing away, and not wanted to get covered in teenager puke. "Yeah!" He turned toward the door and unlocked it. He didn't get the chance to open it for her, as she immediately grabbed the handle and sprinted out into the hallway, toward the restrooms, leaving her things behind.

The brothers looked at one another, completely confused, "What was that about?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged his shoulders high, as startled as his brother was. "She left her stuff behind. I'll look through it. You get her student file."

"Uh, right." Dean said, and nodded. He turned tail out of the door, and once again had to face the secretary, who peered up at him over the rims of her glasses. "I would like Miss Jacob's student file please." He requested.

The secretary harrumphed, then scooted back out of her desk in hear chair and waddled over to a door on the off side of the office, she unlocked the door and disappeared into a room with shelves of files so high they touched the ceiling. Moments later, she waddled back holding a folder so thick with papers, it had to be held together by a rubber band. She threw it on her desk in front of him, gave him one last glare, and continued working on whatever it was on her computer.

Dean nodded in thanks before picking up the heavy folder. The stickers on the sides that represented her initials, read APJ, however, the stickers on her middle and last initials had clearly been placed over other stickers. He guessed that her names had changed with her foster families, and shrugged it off. He brought the file into the room and saw Sam, who was elbow deep in Adalyn's backpack. "Find anything yet?" Dean asked.

"Nothing but crumbled papers and textbooks as big as cinder blocks." Sam grumbled, finally giving up and zipping the bag back up. He put it back where it was and sighed. "What about you, anything interesting?"

"Just a student file as thick as Cas' skull." Dean said and sat down next to his brother. He opened the file, and looked through the papers on the inside. Some of the papers were over a decade old, likely from her elementary years, and displayed A-B grades and notes from teachers claiming Adalyn to be an angel in the classroom. There were two different sections for her middle school years, one at a school in Kansas and the other in West Virginia. The first one, in Kansas, showed little different toward that of her elementary years. However, in West Virginia, her grades significantly dropped: her highest scores peaked at a C+. Sam guessed this was Adalyn's first foster after her mother had been killed. There were many write up slips that thickened the folder quite a bit. Some for vandalism, threat, assault, disrespect, and bringing various weapons to school. Others were for tardies and chewing gum in class. In highschool, there were also two files. One for West Virginia, and another for her current school in California. Her grades and actions plateaued up until the beginning of her junior year (first year in Sacramento), which had grades that didn't much vary, though almost every one of her write up slips had something to do with a violent fight. Her names changed, as Dean had guessed, with each foster home she was put into. In elementary, her last name was Browning, and in middle school through her sophomore year, her last name was Pierce. It was all very interesting, but it still agitated Dean that they really weren't finding anything of use. Student files told almost nothing about the actual student, and he wasn't picking up much from the given information other than she turned into a rebel once her mother died. "This is useless," Dean said, "We need to look up police reports involving her so we might figure out what she is. But I think we'll have to go further back. We need to find her name when she was in Kansas."

Sam looked over the file with his brother, and took note of the stickers on the side which had been changed twice, "Hold on, let me look at that." He said ask he pulled the folder toward him and peeled the stickers back. Below the top layer of stickers were the initials that read ABP. Below that, on the bottom layer, read the initials AWB. "I think her last name changes to her middle name every time she moves, see?" he pointed out to her brother. Right now, she's Adalyn Pierce Jacobs, and in West Virginia, her name was Adalyn Browning Pierce. We can assume that her last name while she was in Kansas was Browning, but I'm not sure what her middle name was..."

"It was my father's last name." A voice from behind them answered, and they both jumped in response to it, they turned around and looked to see Adalyn, who was puffy eyed, probably from vomiting, and standing in the doorway. She raised her eyebrow at their reaction, and them walked back to her chair as she spoke, "She wanted me to keep his name in case he or his relatives ever came looking for me if something bad happened to her."

Their eyes followed her to her chair, and rested on her as Dean asked, "What was your father's name, Adalyn?"

As she laid back in her chair, she once again crossed her arms as she looked back at the two of them, there was only a split second between Dean's question and her answer, and after she opened her mouth and spoke, the world, it seemed had stopped. Her lips parted and a name hung in the air, "John Winchester."


End file.
